She took a deep breath and looked straight ahead, the path on her favorite river trail filled with puddles but otherwise empty. The clouds were gray and the sky was the same, but in many ways that was perfect. She loved the rain, and she had always admired the dedication of runners when she’d see them out here, splashing through puddles.
She was not going to think of Aiden, except she didn’t think of anyone but Aiden. And then she cried like a baby all night. She was an idiot. She would have to see him tonight at the wedding. She had avoided her brother and Sabrina. She avoided speaking to anyone—she was so embarrassed.
Okay, Nat. Enough dillydallying. She glanced down at her phone, started the app, and began a brisk walk, just like the woman’s smug voice instructed. No one was going to break her. She was done with men—once again. She needed to face the facts—she was a woman destined to be alone. Really, there were so many advantages to that. She could lead a fulfilling life in the apartment she rented from her parents. She could eat loads of cannoli—no, she would never eat cannoli again. She would switch to tiramisu. Much better because it even had alcohol in it. So there, she could pour copious amounts of alcohol all over the already-rich tiramisu and sit on her couch and watch movies on Saturday nights.
She forced herself to walk, even though she realized she was doing more of a march.
Damp fall air surrounded her, along with the fog, as she began her half-hour journey. Inevitably, her thoughts went back to Aiden. She squeezed her eyes shut and then remembered she needed to keep them open in order to avoid catastrophic injuries. She kept her gaze focused on the horizon as the irritating prompt in her ear told her it was time to jog. She had this.
The wedding was tomorrow. Aiden would be leaving at the end of the weekend. Ugh. Aiden again. She needed to stop thinking about him. The thought of him rejecting her again filled her with an intense feeling of loss. It shouldn’t. She’d braced herself—she had thought she’d guarded her heart. She had known he wasn’t the guy to settle. But God, she didn’t want him to leave her life again. Somewhere along the way she’d learned to trust him again. That was stupid, right? She’d been burned twice, badly. Here she was ready to trust the only man who’d ever broken her spirit. But, even now, he knew her. After all these years, he had to walk back into her life and with one look, one smile, a tilt of his head, a flash of dimple…and then he’d let her down.
She was shocked when the prompt told her it was time to walk. She stared, incredulous, at the screen on her display. She had jogged for fifteen minutes. She also wasn’t dying. Out of breath, but not on the verge of collapse. She walked for two minutes and then started jogging again.
Get your cute ass on the back of my bike.
Okay, so now it was getting difficult to breathe. That was the single best memory she’d had since Aiden had left town years ago. The way he spoke—his gruff voice with that unmistakable tenderness made her palms sweat, heat invade her body, and made her have premature hot flashes. She would have gotten on that bike and gone anywhere. The feel of his hard body against hers, the feeling of safety and adventure in one. No one had ever been able to give that to her.
But then the whole I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep line obliterated all feelings of desire and love. He had basically told her she wasn’t worth changing for. How could she have the rest of her life together and screw up like this again?
When the prompt told her it was time for a cooldown, she couldn’t believe it. She walked, her thoughts trapped in Aiden-land. Was he partly responsible for her newfound ability to jog? Thoughts of him were so intense, she actually forgot the time.
Or maybe it was time for a newfound independence. She had spent so many years wondering what was wrong with her. Instead, she should have been thinking: what’s wrong with everyone else? She shouldn’t be embarrassed for what she believed in. She shouldn’t be apologetic for wanting to do the right thing. If it made other people uncomfortable, then that was their problem, not hers.
She was done hiding. She was done faking everything. She could freaking jog, so she could do anything. She purposely stepped in a few puddles, breathed in the air with a renewed sense of purpose. The waterfront trail she had conquered. Her inability to build stamina was actually false. She had stamina. She had guts. She was going to go after what she wanted, and wherever that path took her, she’d be able to deal with it.
…
He was an ass of the worst kind, the kind that broke the same woman’s heart for a second time. Aiden glanced over at his father and tried to remember this day was about his father. It was Friday, his last day of radiation. His old man had made it through with flying colors.
“You must be relieved, eh, Dad?”
His father looked up at him and kind of shrugged. The truth was his dad had been kind of crusty all morning, not really what he’d have expected on the last day. When they called his name, he stood and walked into the radiation room without even a backward glance or a good-bye. Aiden hunched forward in his seat, glad there was no one else in the small waiting room this morning. He braced his forearms on his thighs and immediately let his thoughts wander to Natalia. She was probably busy today, running around doing last-minute errands for her cousin’s wedding tomorrow. He had no idea how the hell he’d face her tomorrow night. But that would be the last time in a long time he’d have to see her.
“Hey.”
Aiden looked up, shocked when he heard his brother’s voice. He stood up to greet Dylan. “What are you doing here, man?”
His brother shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess some of what you said got through to me. It’s a big deal. Maybe it’ll mean something to him that I’m here.”
Aiden slapped him on the back, happier than he thought was possible, given the fact that he’d screwed up so badly with Natalia. But he was happy for his dad. “He’ll be happy.”
Dylan nudged his chin out in the direction of the room their dad had gone in. “He in there?”
Aiden nodded. “He should be out any minute.”
Dylan nodded. “Thanks for doing this. We kind of made a joke about it, and you lost the coin toss, but I know I saddled you with this.”
Aiden didn’t say anything for a moment. “Yeah, well, you got saddled with a kid brother who was a notorious screwup. I guess I owed you.”
“Maybe we can take him out for lunch or something?” Dylan asked.
Aiden nodded. “That’d be good. You coming back to Red River?”
Dylan shook his head. “I think I’ll just go back to work after.”
Their dad appeared and froze, his gaze locked on Dylan. Aiden’s chest constricted when he saw tears in their father’s eyes. He walked forward slowly, looking thin and shaky in his hospital gown, and stood by the horn.
“Come on, Mr. McCann, this is your moment!” The nurse stood behind their father, beaming, and waited.
Their dad still didn’t do anything.
“What’s going on?” Dylan whispered to him.
“On the last day of radiation, you’re supposed to honk the horn. I don’t know what he’s waiting for.”
Their father just kept staring at them. Then their dad grinned and honked the horn. And then honked it again. And again. People stared. The nurse looked worried, like maybe he was going nuts.
“Holy crap, is he supposed to keep honking?” Dylan asked.
Aiden laughed. He had never seen their dad that happy. They walked forward, and their dad finally stopped honking the horn. “Congratulations,” Aiden said.
“Yeah, congratulations,” Dylan repeated.
Their father stepped forward, grin still on his face, and clutched both of their arms. “Thanks, boys.”
Aiden slammed the door and walked into his father’s house. To say he was pissed off was putting it mildly. After the hospital, things went downhill fast. His brother and father barely spoke. He’d actually had to play the role of peacekeeper. He didn’t know how Nat did it, because he barely made it through lunch. Him as
the peacekeeper didn’t work. Fine—they all had their issues, but he had the most at the moment, because of his perpetual screwing up.
He was letting Natalia down again. Marriage. Kids. Settling down in Red River. It’s not that he didn’t want that. It’s that he doubted himself. Was he enough for her? Could he be good enough for her? Could he be the husband she needed? Could he be the father he wished he’d had as a kid?
Hell, he didn’t know, but he did need to figure it out, fast.
“Hey! Don’t slam the door, I’m trying to watch TV.” That was the other thing. His dad. Being in Red River meant spending a helluva lot more time with his dad. He had very mixed feelings about that. Yes, things had gotten a lot less tense between them, but they were nowhere close to being good. Natalia’s family would be inviting him to all sorts of family events. Sunday lunch at the Puccini house. How was he going to sit with his father every Sunday with his in-laws on one side of the table and his father at the other? Just the thought of it made it feel like the walls were closing in on him.
And what about Dylan? Was he going to ditch him? He owed his brother everything, more than his father. His brother had looked out for him, practically raised him. He’d feel betrayed if Aiden told him he was moving back to Red River.
“Hey! Come in here.”
Aiden muttered under his breath and walked into the family room. Sure enough, his dad was sitting in his favorite chair. “Where were you tonight?”
“Out.”
“Where?”
Aiden scowled at him. “Seriously? You didn’t give a rat’s ass where I was when I was a teenager. It might have been nice at that stage to have a dad who gave a crap. It’s a little late now that I’m over thirty.”
His father looked pissed. It didn’t take much. “Go back to the city, Aiden.”
What the hell? He was in the mood for a fight. “I don’t get you, you’re just never happy. No matter what we do. I’m here. I’m here for seven weeks driving you back and forth, and you give me crap all the time for everything.”
His dad grunted. “Yeah? You wanted to come here? You and your no-good brother flipped a coin to see who was going to come and help me. Nothing says love like that.”
“Love? When the hell did you ever show us love? Was love when you left your bottle of Scotch on the table to greet us when we got home from school? Or your leather belt looped around the top of the chair in the kitchen?”
“You boys were out of control. What the hell else was I supposed to do?”
He threw up his hands. “Maybe talk to us?”
He expected his father to yell back at him, but he jerked his head toward the television. “I didn’t know what to say.”
“Really? I think some parents start with ‘how was your day.’”
His dad rubbed his hands over his face. “And what if you told me it was a bad day because you missed your mother? Or it was a bad day because I didn’t pack you a lunch. Or maybe it was a bad day because I was a lousy father.”
He stared at his father, who was still not looking at him. His chest felt tight as he really looked at him. Took in the thinned-out hair, the slightly ashen skin. The thin shoulders, the hunched posture. The lines on his face. Time had passed. He’d left home years ago, and even though he knew he was older, he physically hadn’t felt the passage of time. But standing here, looking at his father who was now battling cancer, he realized how much those years had impacted his father. They had given him bus tickets to come and visit. He had. Twice. They called, maybe once a month just to check in. Guilt stabbed him in the gut, and he was pissed off. His dad had been a negligent father, so why was he feeling guilty? Because of their mother? She probably wouldn’t have been too happy about the fact that they’d left. And if she’d still been around, they never would have stayed away for so long or let so much time go between phone calls.
He cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the lump that had formed. “We missed Mom every day.”
“I was a poor replacement for her.”
“No one expected you to be her, but we expected you to at least honor her, and you didn’t. You basically pissed on the family she built.”
His father hung his head, and he fought past the guilt of speaking to him this way. But if he was going to get anywhere, he had to get this out there.
“You’re right.” He reached for the bottle of whiskey that always sat on the side table, but Aiden intercepted.
“Are you freaking kidding me?”
His father scowled. “You’re telling me I’m a crappy father. What, I can’t have a drink?”
He held onto the bottle tightly. “You told us we were crappy kids.”
“I didn’t mean it.”
“Well, hell, Dad, it’s a little late for that now, don’t you think? We bought you a damn Beemer, and you refused to drive it.”
His father leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I only drive American.”
What was the point of this conversation? “You know what? Never mind,” he said, backing away from him. Maybe he’d just take the bottle up to his room and drink until he fell asleep.
His dad flung up his hands. “I didn’t deserve the car—that’s why I’m not driving it. What the hell did I do to deserve that car? My boys make more money than their old man. I was a lousy father.”
Ah, hell. Aiden looked down at his feet. He tried remembering when he was really little, tried to remember his mother’s voice, his father’s voice, when they were a real family. God, how he tried, but he’d been so little. He knew what she looked like because of the pictures. Dylan remembered her better. He just always remembered that he didn’t have a mom. And yeah, he remembered that his father was a lousy dad. He’d been a hard-ass. They’d rarely had conversations.
Dylan had done his best to look out for him. Being four years older, he’d made Aiden’s lunch for school until he was old enough to help out. Their childhood had been confusing and fucking sad. He’d been lost. Three guys in a house trying to run things. Some days he remembered eating just chips for lunch, or a couple crackers because their dad hadn’t gone to the grocery store in a week. But there was always liquor. Dad had never forgotten to go and buy himself liquor. They had gotten by well enough, but when high school started…things began to fall apart. Drugs, alcohol, it had lured them in, had given them their own escape. Troubled kids had found each other.
He lost his friendship with Dominic, his best friend, because Dominic played straight and narrow. Dominic was pissed at him for everything, but when he’d started dating Natalia, that had finished them off. When he was with Nat, he was always sober. For her, he’d have done anything to keep her. But that night of the DUI with Jake Manning, that had ended things. Dominic had told him to get the hell away from his sister, and give her a damn good reason why. And he had. He and Dylan knew it was time to leave town, time to try and get their shit together. He knew Dom was right—he wasn’t good enough for Natalia. He’d ruin her life. So he told her he’d cheated on her, knowing that would turn her off him. And to further drive the knife in her heart, he told her it was because she wouldn’t put out, and he couldn’t wait around for her.
It was the worst damn lie of his life. Seeing her cry, seeing her heart break in front of him made him feel like the biggest piece of crap. A crowd had formed around them during their breakup—it had been at a house party. Her stupid cousin, Francesca, had witnessed it, and so had Dominic. He’d never gotten over her. Yeah, they’d been young, but no woman had ever made him feel like she did. She made him believe in the good. She made him believe that everyone was redeemable if they wanted to be redeemed. If he could go back, he would have been stronger, he would have never used, never gotten into that car. And maybe then he could have held onto Nat. Maybe they would have gotten married, had a couple kids.
He glanced over at his father, sitting alone, staring at a picture of him and their mom on their wedding day. He must have been thinking the same type of thing. He must have been wishing she
were still here.
The image of Nat walking through the house, giving his father food, made him cringe. She believed in him. She believed that their father was redeemable, even when they didn’t. He thought about what she’d tell him to do right now. She wouldn’t let him walk out of this room with his father like this.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “You, uh…you miss Mom a lot, I guess. Maybe you shouldn’t be hitting on all the women under forty in town.”
Holy. Shit. His father’s face crumpled, and then he covered it with his hands. His father was crying. He had never seen the man cry. He’d always yelled at them for crocodile tears. Men didn’t cry.
He shifted from one foot to the other, not knowing what to do. He cleared his throat. “Dad?”
His dad didn’t say anything.
He slowly approached him and then crouched down beside him. He heard the gentle sobbing. What should he do? Poke him?
He tapped him awkwardly on the shoulder. His father still didn’t say anything. Was this a side effect from radiation? He didn’t remember reading that in the info binder. “Dad, are you okay?”
“Those women…they’re nice to me, and I know they’d never want an old man like me, and that’s perfect. I don’t want them. I just don’t want any women my age hitting on me.”
He didn’t have the heart to tell the old man no woman a hundred years old or any age would want him in his current state.
“I had the perfect woman. I had it all,” he yelled, lifting his face, saliva in the corner of his mouth, his eyes almost shut. “I had the only woman I’ll ever want, and I lost it all. I lost her, and I’ll never have another chance at that again.”
He slowly lowered his hands, but motioned for that wedding photo on the credenza. Aiden brought it over. His father took it, his hands shaking. “If I die from this—”
The Rebel's Return (Red River) Page 12
